


The Afterman

by ihopehellhaswifi



Series: Just Like Heaven [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, But no really there's a lot of smut here, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Happy Ending, Romance, Smut, Songfic, can stand alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2332607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihopehellhaswifi/pseuds/ihopehellhaswifi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Reality settled as the memories raced, while on the screen he lived.</i> Songfic, following the events before, during, and after <i>Hammer of the Gods.</i> </p><p>Smut. Lots of smut. And angst. And cursing exacerbated by angst. Verbal discourse, canonical character death, and more angst. </p><p>But hey, I'm a sucker for a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Afterman

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this bouncing around my head since I wrote _Home (Is Wherever I’m With You)_. I had the idea to do it as a companion fic, but the details changed. Still, there are some several similarities, and this one could plausibly be read as a prequel. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. 
> 
> I’ve never written a songfic, and I have a sort of love/hate relationship when it comes to reading them, but I hope I executed this one well.  
> The song is _The Afterman_ by Coheed and Cambria.

The house shuddered and moaned in the wake of the rolling thunder and wind. Homer whimpered, pressing his cold nose into the bend of your elbow. Scratching his head, you muttered some words of comfort before tightening the blanket around you both.

The little dog whined again and attempted to burrow beneath your side as lightening flashed and another loud crack reverberated around your home.

The lights flickered; a power surge.

The radio clicked on and began to play.

_She gave her heart to a falling star_

_When news filtered through of his tragedy_

_All the walls went up_

Homer’s ears perked and he dragged himself above the blankets.

Tilting his head to one side, he stared inquisitively at the dim glow of the interface.

You pushed yourself into a sitting position and momentarily joined the terrier in his contemplation before shaking your head and sliding from beneath the covers. You padded across the floor, powering down the system.

Homer rose and pawed at the couch cushions, then bounded about in excitement, bottom wriggling as he wagged his little stump of a tail. He yapped twice, looking at you expectantly.

“Nah, buddy. We’re not doing this tonight,” you sighed, trudging back to your makeshift bed. Homer sat back on his haunches and a tiny growl escaped his throat.

“Whatever, little dude,” you mumbled, settling back into the blankets. Taking Homer in your arms, you curled around the ball of fur and energy. The dog kicked at you, breaking free and bouncing in a circle.

Another loud crack of lightening illuminated the sky as the storm descended upon your home.

_**Click** _

_She gave her heart to a falling star_

_When news filtered through of his tragedy…_

Homer glanced between you and the stereo expectantly and, tail nearly vibrating, released two sharp barks.

You stilled and absently pat his head, frowning at the radio.

_Around the world, she declines_

_As the tears from her eyes fall_

_No one understands and no one will_

_All she has lost_

Throwing back the covers, you stomped across the room.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

Homer yapped frantically behind you as you dropped to your knees. Reaching behind the shelf, you felt for the power chord.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

The terrier bounded off the sofa and ran to you, nudging your arm and barking. He pawed at your side and grabbed a mouthful of your nightclothes, dragging you away from the system.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

Drawing back from the shelf with a frustrated sigh, you blinked back tears consisting of equal parts furious incredulity and abject sadness.

“Homer, what has gotten into, boy?” You gently pushed the dog back, scooting towards him in the process. Homer placed his paws on your shoulders and licked your face. A small laugh crept out of your chest and a few stray droplets leaked from your eyes.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

Another loud boom sounded and the sky filled with a blinding white light. The stereo crackled, then grew silent.

You fell back with Homer, looking from him to the, presumably now defunct, device.

“Alright, then,” you breathed out slowly, pushing yourself to stand. “Come on, buddy. Back to bed.”

On shaky feet, you traversed the short distance and stretched across the couch. Homer jumped behind you and curled against your ribs. Running your hand through his fur to sooth you both, your mind drifted down a tempestuous path.

——————————-

“Indiana.” The word left your mouth, as much as a statement as a question.

In that moment, in the dimly lit kitchen, separated by only a narrow laminate counter top, the distance between you couldn’t have been greater if you’d been on opposite ends of the earth.

“Scenic Indiana, sweetheart,” Gabriel confirmed. “And I’ve gotta get a move on soon. But, I need you to promise me something first.”

Wary, tired, you closed your eyes and sighed.

“I’ll do what I can live with,” you replied. Gabriel shook his head.

“Not good enough.”

“It’s the best you’re gonna get.”

He huffed and raked a hand through his hair, scowling at you in disapproval.

“Listen. I need you to lay low. It’s gonna get messy out there, and I want you to stay put until I get back.” Your eyes widened as he spoke.

“It’s going to get— _Just lay lo—-_ ” you sputtered before finishing, “This is the apocalypse we’re talking about here! _The End Is Fuckin’ Nigh!_ And you what? Expect me to just sit here?”

“That! _That!_ ” Gabriel shook a finger at you. “That’s just it! It’s the end of the world, baby! And all you have to do is wait it out!” At your confused look, he continued. “Don’t you see it? When this is all over, if Michael wins, it’s gonna be paradise!” He finished, gesturing widely with one hand.

Too many thoughts raced through your head. You wondered if Gabriel realized to whom, _to what_ , he spoke. How did one even begin to point out everything wrong in this? You plucked the nearest coherent idea.

“And if he doesn’t?”

Even as you voiced the notion, Gabriel’s expression gave way to a grimace and his mouth twisted in distaste.

“That… Well, that’s going to be a little bit trickier. But sugar, you gotta believe me, I’ll keep you safe. No matter what. I swear it.”

Your chest felt smaller; tighter. You inhaled as deeply and slowly as you could manage before quietly exhaling.

“Do you really think that’s what I want?” You maintained a soft, even tone as you asked. Gabriel’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Wha— What?” He scoffed. He paused, continuing in exasperation, “Well, what _do_ you want?”

“What do I want?” You laughed. The question seemed so stupid at the time. 

“ _What I want_ is for my world to not end. What I want is for everyone to be okay. What I want is for humanity to keep derping along, being awful and imperfect and impossible and fubar’d, because you know what? There’s messed up shit in the world, and the fact that we’ve not blown ourselves to hell and gone, or that we’ve not been out-evolved by giant cockroach overlords is kind of beautiful and impressive in and of itself. And, yes, oh yes, we are plenty terrible down here, and it might just be time to hit reboot,” you halted, collecting your thoughts.

“But, what I don’t want is for Michael or Lucifer or you or any of your other winged, entitled, control freak family to make that call for us. What I _do not want_ is to be some sheltered thing you’ve hidden away at the end of the world. I _do not want_ to watch everyone I love die, and _I don’t_ want to have to live with that for… However long? I don’t even really understand what you’re planning to do here, or how you think this is going to work. Or what any of this has to do with Indiana,” you ranted.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously not!” He snarked, making another expressive hand gesture.

You frowned.

“I’m telling you that whatever happens, Hell on Earth, Heaven in Heaven, Heaven on Earth, whatever-done-is-done, I’m going to be able to go home, and sooner or later, you’re gonna be right there with me. Heaven, for cryin’ out loud! _Paradise!_ We can build our own little kingdom on the back forty,” he coaxed, reaching across the counter to cover your hand with his. His eyes gleened with some strange mania. You tensed beneath his touch and he flinched away, resting the retracted appendage beside your own, fingertips drumming across the surface of the bar in an off rhythm.

“You weren’t even gonna ask me how I felt about this?” That sickeningly tense feeling grew in your chest and you struggled to remain composed.

“Well, we’re talking about it now, aren’t we?” His expression and tone indicated either his failure or blatant refusal to see the problem.

“That’s not—” You stopped, shaking your head. Trying to get back to a topic that might still produce something more than frustration and impotent rage, you groaned. You rubbed your temples and steeled yourself, repeating, “Indiana.”

Gabriel slowly closed his eyes and released a long-suffering sigh, running his hands down his face.

“I have some old friends,” he hesitated.

“Old friends?” You urged.

“More like ‘old deities who mostly want to see me dead’, because hey, Loki: Trickster God, Extraordinaire here?” You rolled your eyes.

“And they’re in Indiana?” You prodded.

“Rumor has it, they’re laying a trap for the Super Winchester Bros, trying to change the signature of the Apocalypse Suite. That’ll send up a _huge_ red flag for Luci, which means it’s gonna go from an all you can eat long-pig buffet to a Pollock exhibition in no time flat,” he explained.

Your brow furrowed, frown deepening. At your look, he continued.

“Yours truly is going to go and try to convince them to get the hell out of Dodge before Lucifer turns their insides into outsides.”

Eyes locked on him, your head shook in a nearly imperceptible movement.

“Why? Why would you do that? For people that want you dead?”

“It’s… It’s complicated,” he muttered, glancing down.

“Try me,” you deadpanned. “I mean, obviously all of this is pretty damned complicated. And so far ‘You’re just not getting it’ seems to be the beginning and ending of this communication breakdown, so why the hell not? By all means, please explain what makes this any different; why you’re delivering yourself to a bunch of gods who, by your own admission, want to rip you several new ones just on the principle of you being a jackass! Never mind the fact that if they find out what— _who_ —you really are, you are so beyond screwed. And if your brother… How do you think this is gonna play out?” You gesticulated wildly, agitation growing in conjunction with the pitch of your voice. Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, hands curling tightly into fists.

“So yeah, please try to enlighten me as to why the hell you’re doing any of this? You know, unless you feel like it’s a waste of breath, and that your energy would be better spent taking off to save your friends-not-friends right before somebody jams a spit through you and puts you on to slow-roast, because, if that’s case-” the sharp cracking sound of Gabriel’s palms flattening harshly against the counter abruptly ended your tangent.

His expression dark, he straightened, drawing himself up and towards you. You leaned back instinctively.

He spoke then. His fire and fury and passion burned hotter with each passing word.

“ _You know what?_ You don’t understand. You can’t possibly understand. You can’t conceive of what leaving home did to me. You don’t have the capacity to feel the way that made me feel, or to completely appreciate the horrible things I’ve done _out of spite_ for my father and brothers once I realized _Daddy_ wasn’t coming back from his cigarette run. I had _no one._ I was _alone._ ”

He made for an imposing figure, whiskey-golden eyes glowing bright in the faint kitchen light, shoulders back as though proudly sporting the wings you knew he possessed, but lacked the ability to see.

“ _And those deities?_ ” He continued, “Those deities? A few of them became my family. They were my _only_ family for thousands of years. And sure, they want me dead now, but hey, who doesn’t? They can get in line! So I’m going to do whatever it takes to get them to see this is a fight they just can’t win. And damn straight, I am going to do absolutely everything in my power to get them to give up, go back to their own sandboxes, kick back and enjoy the show! They were all that I had, so don’t you ever, _ever,_ presume to—” he stopped, finally taking note of the now substantially decreased distance between you. Catching sight of your eyes before your face turned to the floor, he blinked slowly and eased back to his side of the counter, into his seat. A few seconds ticked by as he collected himself.

“Sweetheart, I—”

“No,” you interjected. “I understand.” You pressed your hands against your eyes, dragging them down to violently rub your cheeks. You avoided eye contact, instead focusing on the undone top button of his shirt. “They have a chance. You think they have a chance, so you have to do something for them.” You laughed again, this one escaping hoarse with emotion. “Even if there’s no hope for us, right? We’re just screwed.”

His expression was unreadable. “It’s different.”

“Yeah.”

“You’d do the same thing,” he pointed out gently. Your eyes remained trained to the button and you mulled the comment around in your head.

“Maybe,” you conceded, meeting his gaze. “I… I can understand why you’re doing this. And, I can understand why you’re not picking a side. I can understand why you aren’t helping stop this. I know you just want to go home, and for this to be done, and that you don’t care how it happens. If this was the only way I could go home… I understand all of that. Just… I just want you to know that. I understand, at least well enough. And whatever you do, your decisions are your own. Not like anyone can tell you anything anyway. It’s who you are,” you rambled.

“Well, glad we’re finally on the same page here.”

“But,” you started, giving him a small glare, “you have to respect that I’m not going to just stand by and watch the world end. I’m going to fight this fight until it kills me. And it probably will.” Gabriel seemed as though he might protest before a look of grim resignation passed across his face. He nodded.

Standing, he walked around the counter and gently turned you in your seat.

“It’ll all be over soon,” he promised. You shivered as he cupped your face.

“One way or another,” you agreed. “Either way, I imagine I’ll meet you at the end.” You turned your head slightly to press a kiss against his palm.

“Oh, absolutely, sweetheart. There’s no getting away from me,” he smirked, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.

“I’m holding you to that,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against his.

You rose, dropping your feet to the floor and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Promise? I like being held to things,” he smirked, waggling an eyebrow as you backed him against the counter. You hummed in agreement, tilting your head to meet his mouth as it descended upon your own.

His lips moved against yours, hot and teasing. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, relishing your resulting gasp. Taking advantage of your distraction, his tongue swept against yours, initiating a battle for dominance. Hands gripping your hips, he ground against you. You moaned, tugging him closer as your fingers laced through his hair. You nipped at the tip of his tongue and felt the corner of his lips quirk up against yours. His hold on you tightened, and he moved with you until you felt your back bump against a wall. He broke away.

“Although, I have to admit, I like holding you to things a little bit better,” he quipped, descending once more upon your grinning, wanting mouth.

Your hands slid from his hair, down his neck, over his shoulders, coming to rest at the hollow of his throat. Your fingers skimmed across the buttons of his shirt, deftly freeing them from their confines. Pulling back slightly, you followed the same path with a trail of kisses, tongue swirling hotly over his pulse. Nails scraping from his collarbone down his chest, you flattened a palm above his heart.

He hissed at the sensation, dragging you up to once more attack your lips. Your fingers clenched against his chest as his own hands hoisted you up to frame his hips with your knees. You dug your heels into the backs of his thighs as he pinned you to the wall, pulling him closer still.

His hands slipped up your sides, slid beneath your shirt. Trailing along your rib cage, he cupped your breasts, thumbing over you nipples.

You gasped, again granting his tongue entry to your mouth.

Your wetness seeped through your underwear, forming a damp spot on his pants. Sliding a hand back down between you and under your waistband, his nimble fingers sought out your heat. He slipped between your folds, teasing circles around the resting bundle of nerves. You bucked against him, groaning at the sensation. He moaned in returned, delving into further into you. His middle and forefinger probed your entrance before plunging in deeply. You gasped, breaking away from his kiss as your head thudded heavily against the wall.

He murmured something incoherent against your skin before burying his face in the apex of your neck and shoulder. His tongue swept against your collarbone as his fingers moved within you.

Your muscles tightened in his arms and you constricted around him with an unintelligible moan. You rubbed against him, seeking friction, so, so close.

“Oh sugar,” he purred into your ear, withdrawing. “We’re just getting started.”

With preternatural strength and speed, he dropped to his knees while simultaneously lifting your legs up to drape across his shoulders. You noticed your lack of clothing when you felt the skin of his cheek press against your thigh. Your mind struggled to reconcile with the waves of pleasure combined and the sudden position change. A clarity began to spread through your hazy, heated thoughts, before meeting an abrupt end with the first swipe of Gabriel’s tongue.

 _Relentless._ The thought echoed through your mind before fading into static with everything else. Gabriel’s tongue traced your outer labia, barely teasing the inner folds. Both hands now tightly gripped your ass, holding you in place between him and the wall. The dexterous organ moved in a sporadic pattern, tracing up, down, swirling around the sensitive button.

“Gaaabr—-” You began, trailing off as he deviated in speed and direction. His hands tightened on your hips.

His tongue slid down from your bud, teasing your folds before plunging into your entrance. Your head banged against the wall as you released an animalistic sound.

“Mmm,” Gabriel hummed, pulling away from you. “Methinks honey likes,” he grinned, sinking in a deep lap from your opening to your clit. Another guttural noise escaped your throat.

“Gabriel,” you growled, fisting his hair in one hand and you drew in the back of his head with another. “Shhh—-”

You’d tried to tell him to shut up, but he knew his strengths as well as he knew his weaknesses. His lips latched around your nub and he sucked, swiping at the surrounding areas with his tongue. Your words fell away as you felt the world collapsing around you. You felt him move, felt his fingers pressing against you, entering you, curling inside you. You tensed and tightened, and everything shattered around him as his name spilled across your lips.

He rose, dropping your legs around his waist and lifting you with him. Your bare breasts pressed flush against his chest, brushing lightly against the open fabric of his shirt. He ground against you, the material of his pants growing damp with a mixture of your juices and his own pre-cum. Your hands slid between you, popping the button of his trousers, lowering the zipper. You encircled his member as the throbbing appendage sprang free.

You pumped him once, twice, three times; Gabriel hissed into your neck, thrusting up against you. Your arms came around him and he braced one hand on the wall behind you, bringing the other up to wrap around your back and grip your shoulder. You moved against him, hot and wet and inviting. Your mouth trailed scalding kisses up his neck. You caught his earlobe between your teeth, tugging insistently.

“Gabriel,” you breathed. “Gabriel. Please,” you begged as much as you demanded. A sound reminiscent of a choked sigh escaped his throat as he pressed closer to you, spreading your thighs wider. You felt the head of his cock brushing against you. You swiveled your hips, canting them so as to trail him across the length of your slit, bumping against your most sensitive spots. You felt him smile and he stilled you in his grasp, carefully sliding against you to coat himself in your wetness. Aligning you above his shaft, he met your eyes.

Panting as he held you, he exuded something dangerous. Something feral that you couldn’t quite place. One hand brushed back your hair, fingers trailing down to bury themselves in it. He caught your gaze. He moved, barely pressing into you. You tried to push back, tried to further encompass him, but he held strong. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips and you tasted yourself. You caught his gaze as he withdrew.

His eyes shone turbulent and troubled, seeking some sort of answer to a question he couldn’t articulate. There were things; words that other, different people might have said. Any number of cliché speeches: _Last Night On Earth; I Promise I’ll Come Back; Will You Wait For Me?;There Might Be Some Foxhole Stuff, Please Don’t Put Up The Wardings Again._

But that wasn’t Gabriel. And that wasn’t you.

Your hand cupped his face, brushing a thumb across his cheekbone.

Meeting his lips once more, you pulled yourself down as he drove upward and into you.

The air rushed from your lungs as you fell back into the wall. Gabriel’s head dipped down, mouth latching on just beneath your collarbone to suckle the patch of skin above your breast. His hips pulled back before driving into you again.

He kissed up your neck, lavishing it in attention. Your fingers wound into his hair, holding him to you.

You found a strange rhythm that Gabriel largely controlled. He pulled you against him as he thrust, driving you into the wall. As his velocity increased, one of your hands clawed a trail down his back as the other tightened in his locks. He growled, jerking against you and slipping his fingers down to lightly pinch your nub.

You shook, crying out as Gabriel moved in you. He adjusted your hips, angling to penetrate you more completely. Overwhelmed by the barrage of sensations, your back arched as you attempted to match his thrusts. His fingertips continued to work you, teasing swirls turning into desperate, commanding strokes. You quivered around him, a sob wrenching from your throat as the world in your peripheral vision dimmed and exploded. Gabriel’s palms gripped your thighs as you grew limp, tired legs trying to drop from his waist.

You felt him pull you away from the wall, pivoting sharply on the ball of one foot. The world streaked passed you in a blur as you fell. While too exhausted to truly panic, you still breathed a small sigh of relief as your back hit the plush comforter of your bed, head bouncing against the pillows. The sigh shifted into a sharp gasp that abruptly ended as Gabriel buried himself in you once more, then captured your lips in another starved kiss.

Breaking away, he rose to his knees, pulling you with him as he went. His thrusts slowed to a steady, rolling motion. Head lowered, he leaned in to plant a row of hot kisses down your chest and abdomen. Wisps of damp, golden brown hair trailed in his wake, and you twitched beneath his ministrations. Another shameless, impassioned cry escaped you, and the corners of Gabriel’s lips turned up in a sly, knowing smile. Straightening once again, still maintaining his tortuously slow pace, he drew a hand up to caress your breast. He caught your nipple, tweaking it roughly in his fingertips and eliciting from you another wretched sound before tracing a slow, scorching path back down, _down, down._

“Whad’ya say, sweetheart?” He panted, smiling with a vicious glee as you writhed before him. “One more, one more?” 

To your mewled, unintelligible response, Gabriel laughed, “Thought so!” And withdrew almost entirely. Your body protested the emptiness resulting from his sudden absence, and milliseconds passed like centuries before he finally drove himself home.

While faster and almost violent in its ferocity, his pace remained steady as he took you. His fingers dug into your hips and the curves of your ass, bruising but not unpleasant. You wanted to reach for him, to pull him to you, but your body felt too heavy, and your mind to fuzzy to force an action. Instead, you watched him from beneath heavy, hooded eyes. You admired the ripple of the muscles in his arms as he moved you; his shoulders, raised proudly as though poised for battle; the reverent expression on his downturned face as your name crossed his lips in a slew of other less familiar words.

His movements stuttered, then his speed increased. You forced one hand to move, brushing lightly against his own at your side. His gaze flickered to yours, reflecting back all of the need and want and raw emotion bursting inside you. His fingers relaxed, lacing through yours to rest their tips on your knuckles. He drew your interlocked hands between you, pausing to hover his palm over your mound. Your hips arched in a futile attempt to hasten your release. Again, he met your eyes and a tired smiled tugged at his lips.

“Ready?”

You whined in response, twisting to find some friction.

“Na-uh!” He tutted. “I asked if you were ready. What’s the magic word?”

“Asshole,” you rasped, holding his hand in place when he feigned removing it. “I need… I can’t… Anymore… Gabriel…”

“Not exactly what I was going for.” In his next few thrusts, he rotated his hips. A delicious ache grew in you, coursing throughout your body. “Wanna try again?”

You trembled, senses on overload.

You would not win this game.

“I need to… I need you… _Please!_ ” As the last word tore from your throat, Gabriel laughed. “See? Was that so hard?” He lilted, then pressed the heel of his palm firmly against your clit.

In combination with the force of his thrusting, the sensation hurtled you over the precipice. Your fingers tightened around his, your free hand grasping at the covers. As your walls trembled and clenched, you felt Gabriel swell inside you. His last few thrusts came harsh and staggered. You ground yourself into his palm, triggering a series of mind-numbing aftershocks upon feeling his release.

Utterly spent and useless, you sank into the mattress. Gabriel remained on his knees, member still pulsating within your heated channel. His hands rested on your upper thighs, gently rubbing the now reddening imprints at your hips.

“You okay?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Isss good,” you slurred in response, blindly groping for his wrist and tugging him down with you. You moaned as he exited your body, rolling to face him. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him to press a kiss against your forehead. Your eyelids drooped, then flashed wide as the conversations of the day rushed back into your mind.

You wanted nothing more than for him to opt out of this excursion to Indiana, but ultimately knew there was nothing for it. He was doing what he had to do. You had to respect that.

“How long?” You asked quietly, tilting your head to watch his response.

He grunted. “Not long enough.” Pressing his forehead to yours, noses touching, he dropped a kiss to your lips. You yawned. “You should get some sleep, kiddo. You’ve been running on empty as it is.”

“Not tired,” you began, interrupted by another yawn. “Oxygen deprived. Your fault.” Your eyes fluttered again.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so stubborn…” he trailed off as you roughly nuzzled his cheek before burying your face in his neck and taking in his scent.

“Asshole,” came your muffled reply. He snickered.

“You love me.” He meant to speak the words in jest, but their taste in his mouth caused his smile to fade.

“Mmmm,” you hummed in response. Your body relaxed, breathing growing even. His hold on your sleeping form tightened. He stared at you, watching the upward twinge of your lips; the look of absolute contentment in his arms.

“You love me,” he whispered again to the dark of the room. He breathed a short laugh, the offered an apologetic smirk that went unnoticed.

“That can’t be easy. I mean, I’m an enormous asshole,” he murmured.

You responded unconsciously by burrowing deeper into his side.

Outside, a storm gathered on the horizon.

——————————-

Something jerked you from your slumber. You felt as though you’d slept for a day, but a quick glance at the radio confirmed that it had only been a couple of hours. Muscles sore, you stretched and noticed your state of dress (not naked) and cleanliness (not sticky and reeking of sex). Thunder rumbled outside, and something whimpered near your foot.

“What the-??” You exclaimed, leaping up to grasp for one of the knives you typically left on your bedside dresser. Curiously, your search yielded no results. Diving from the bed, you rounded on the whining creature, preparing yourself for unarmed combat.

Lightening flashed, illuminating the form of a grown terrier trying to huddle beneath your mass of blankets.

“Huh?”

You cautiously approached the animal and discovered a note resting beneath its front paws. Reaching toward the dog, you gingerly tugged the paper out from under him.

_Hi!_

_My name is Homer. I like carob cookies, hoarding socks, and barking incessantly at dust particles._

_My dad is an idiot. Please watch me until he comes home._

_Love,_

The letter ended with a muddy paw print as a signature.

“Homer, huh?” You asked the dog, who stood up and wagged his tail happily in return. Another crash of lightening drove him back under the blankets.

“You don’t like storms, do you, little dude?”

Homer whined in return.

“I’m sorry. I don’t really know how to make it better,” you apologized, sitting next to him and tentatively running a hand down his back. “Maybe your daddy will get his head out of his ass and come back soon? Then you won’t have to put up with me.”

Homer whimpered again, glancing to the window.

“Looks pretty nasty out there, doesn’t it buddy? Let’s check the weather and see how long until it blows through,” you suggested, hopping off the bed and padding out of the room. The terrier bounded behind you, sticking close to your heels as you made your way to the living room and clicked on the television, switching it to a local channel.

_Meteorologists are perplexed by the barrage of storm cells clustering in the upper—_

You tuned out the broadcaster, focusing on the radar image in the corner of the screen. The better part of the United States glowed with splotches of red, orange, and yellow. Particularly high concentrations of red covered Indiana, sprawling out into most of the Midwest. You clicked to another channel.

_-have caused countless accidents. Flood waters are rising at alarming rates in the—_

_**Click** _

_-and as you can see, most of the greater metropolitan area is suffering from severe power outages—_

You switched to the national weather channel.

_-a state of emergency. Delaware County is being hit particularly hard, and residents of Muncie are advised to remain—_

“Dammit.”

The terrier’s renewed sounds of distress attracted your attention. Pawing a the ground, he glanced to the door.

“Yeah. Okay. I don’t know how you’re gonna feel about this, and we’re probably about to do something really dumb,” you informed him. He ran to the door and pawed at the frame, casting you a look over his shoulder.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, at least,” you paused. “Or you have to pee. Do you have to pee?”

He stared at you unblinkingly.

“Okay. So we are on the same page. Gabriel’s down a well, or whatever,” you muttered.

Your mind raced, plotting out a course of action. Hurrying to your computer, you conducted a search on the county that seemed to be catching the brunt of the damage. You scanned through public records, reports from the historical society, and anything else you could find when something finally caught your eye.

A name. Something from mythology.

Everything clicked into place.

You stood in your doorway less than half an hour later with Homer gathered close to your chest.

Lightening flashed.

_One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, four one-thousand, five one-thousand, six one-thousand, seven one-thousand, eight one-thousand, nine one-thousand, ten one-thousand, eleven—_

Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed soon after by another lightening strike.

You sprinted to your vehicle, ushering the little dog into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind you. You threw your bag in the back and clipped a printed directions sheet to the visor, praying to any non-jackass deity that you would reach your destination safely and on time. Homer barked at the page as another flash cast light on the words.

_The Elysian Fields Hotel, Muncie, Indiana- Condemned May 23rd, 1980: Once a thriving lodge located on route—_

——————————-

You drove for what seemed like an eternity, navigating the fierce weather. Homer sat patiently beside you, tail occasionally thumping against the seat. Growing closer to your destination, the storm seemed taper down from a completely chaotic deluge of oh-shit to a slightly inconvenient torrential downpour. Homer whimpered at the change, and your stomach began to sink.

_Please…. Please… Please…_

You weren’t even sure what you were praying for. You didn’t know what you were about to walk into. You couldn’t.

_Please, please… Please, let everything be okay._

_…God… If you’re listening… Please let Gabriel—_

Your thoughts derailed as Homer let out a yelp. A long, black muscle car, barreled around a curve on your side of the road. Both you and the driver narrowly managed to swerve out of the way. You slammed on your brakes, screeching to a halt and watched the other vehicle through your rear-view mirror. It fishtailed moving into the straight, but corrected itself and continued hauling ass at breakneck speed.

Your hands smacked the wheel, then curled around it. You breathed deeply for a moment, dropped the car back in gear, and continued on your way.

_Not much longer, now._

——————————-

The rain stopped completely as you pulled into the nearly full hotel parking lot. The clouds pushed staunchly onward to the south, clearing a path in the sky that allowed you view of some stars. In the east, you saw the first crimson glow of morning light crest the horizon. Homer bounced in the passenger seat, barking at the hotel entrance.

“I’d say business is booming for a place that’s been closed thirty years,” you commented. Homer glanced at you, then back to the building.

You secured your backpack across your shoulders after retrieving a pine stake, then patted the gun at your hip and cataloged the position of the ammunition in your coat pockets. You turned to the dog, who quickly seated himself, still wagging his tail.

“Alright, Homes. Stay put until I get back.”

Homer cocked his head, lifting one ear.

“Good.” You scratched his head, popping open your door.

Homer immediately bounded past you, out of the car, up the steps and into the hotel.

“Homer!!” You shouted. Remembering yourself, you clasped a hand over your mouth and repeated in a harsh whisper, “ _Homer!!_ Homer, dammit!”

Nothing.

“Fucking shit balls cock hell dammit,” you hissed off a litany of every curse you could recall in your language and a few others. Shutting the car door, you stormed towards the entrance. “Fucking hell. Can’t even keep track of his damn dog. Shit, shit, shit,” you continued to mutter beneath your breath.

As you approached the partially opened door, you saw a smudge of something dark and red on the glass. Upon closer inspection, you identified it as a smeared hand print.

“Bet it wasn’t Spaghetti Mondays,” you grimaced. Looking down, you took in the makeshift doorstop: a human hand. Classy.

Stepping across the threshold and making your way into the hotel, you absorbed your surroundings.

“Well, you weren’t kidding about the Pollock exhibit,” you whispered in awe.

Arterial spray coated the walls. An eruption of blood covered the front desk, and drag trails lined the the hallway. Taking in the carnage, you noted in passing that the clumps of grey matter provided a nice texture and contrast to the overall “rampant, careless bloodshed explosion” theme. You shook away the thought.

_Focus._

You searched around for a floor plan, trying to get an idea of where to look without doing too much poking around in the event of any remaining human-consuming party goers.

_YAPP YAPP_

The sound echoed up the hall.

“Homer,” you whispered, moving to slide along the wall in the direction of the sound.

_YAPP YAPP_

_YAPP YAPP YAPP_

You turned down another hall that came to a dead end with a set of double doors embedded on the right side. One wasn’t quite shut.

_YAPP YAPP_

You were close enough to hear intermittent whimpering between the bursts of barks.

_YAPP YAPP YAPP_

You pushed open the door.

Your stomach bottomed out.

“No.”

_YAPP YAPP_

Your chest tightened, heart thudding too fast and too hard. You couldn’t breathe.

“Oh no. No. No, no, _no, no no._ ”

_YAPP YAPP_

Homer stood over Gabriel’s body. He licked at his face, occasionally thumping him with a paw.  
“Oh God, no. Oh please God, no,” you begged. Inching closer to his form, you took in the gouge in his chest and the telltale burn of his wings on the floor.

“Oh no. Oh fuck,” you gagged. Turning away, you stumbled to your knees and wretched, spilling the contents of your stomach onto the floor. You continued to dry-heave long afterward, eyes watering as you broke into a cold sweat. Your arms shook under your weight and a gross sob clawed its way out of your throat. Beside you, Homer whined and licked your hand.

Coughing, you looked to the little dog, eyes wide and sad. You had to compose yourself. There were things that needed done.

Taking in deep gulps of air, you squeezed your eyes shut and pushed to your feet.

On unsteady legs, you turned and slowly closed the distance between yourself and the body.

“Oh, you fucking ass. You’re not dead. You’re not dead. You can’t be dead,” you all but growled.

“That’s not how it’s supposed to go. I’m human. I’m supposed to have the stupid short lifespan and die, and then we get to chill out in a champagne jacuzzi in Heaven. Because that’s your home. And you’re supposed to get to go back,” your voice raised an octave as you climbed towards hysteria.

“You shit, all you wanted to do was go back. Dammit to hell, you fucking ass! How did you mess this up? You wanted to go home, and… You can’t be dead, you fucking can’t be dead!” You screamed at him, wiping your mouth with the edge of your coat sleeve. The toes of your shoes skirted around the feathered outline. Finally, you broke and pressed a hand to the ground. Your fingers drew back charred, black soot. You you fell to your knees again, roughly shoving him in the side.

“You bastard,” you choked. “You promised. You promised.” A few tears escaped as you brought your head against his chest and listened to the deafening silence of his heart.

Homer lay at Gabriel’s feet, draping his head across an ankle and staring at you.

There were things that needed done. There would be time to grieve.

With one last sob, you tore away from the empty shell.

_There were things that needed done._

——————————-

You drove home with the body of your deceased lover in the trunk, your face painted with rage and dirt and what was left of his wings. It was a stupid, unnecessary risk, and you didn’t particularly care.

The storms held off for a time, and you buried him near your house that night in an opening beneath the stars. Homer lay on his grave for two days before he allowed you to forcibly relocate him to the house, where you proceeded to feed him homemade carob cookies and cover him with mismatched socks. On the third day, you planted a tree in memoriam.

The following week, a package came in the mail.

——————————-

Frowning, you pulled the disk from the paper envelope. Homer sat by your feet, head tilted in askance.

“Dunno, buddy. Hopefully, it’s not some _Ringu_ bullshit.” A slip of paper fell out behind the disk.

_This DVD is not cursed. Side effects may include: increased heart rate and breathing, uncontrollable arousal, and in some cases, the strong desire to inflict physical harm on metaphysical beings. Watch at your own risk._

Your heart stopped as you recognized the writing. With shaking hands, you slipped the disk into your computer. The program queued up a black screen that flickered, clearing to an image of Gabriel sitting on a bed. Homer barked.

 _“Hey, sugar!”_ A wide smile spread across his face, nearly reaching his eyes. _“How’s it going? And how’s Homer? Are you taking care of him for me? I told him not to worry; that you’d make sure he didn’t starve, and that you’d get along great.”_ Gabriel’s eye twinkled in the light on the screen. You held your breath.

 _“I hope I was right,”_ he paused, dragging a hand across his hair and casting his gaze to the ground.

_“I hope I was right, because it’s looking like this arrangement is going to be a little more permanent than I originally planned.”_

Your heart crumbled in your chest and you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

 _“See, sweetheart, if you’re watching this… If you’re watching this, then it turns out that **you** were right about some things.”_ Your eyes snapped open at his words.

Through the screen, he met your confused stare.

 _“I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing. I had to choose a side, and it couldn’t be Michael’s or Lucifer’s,”_ he stated firmly. _“But I had to choose. And I chose the world, and all of the messed up humans and gods and monsters… Everything in it that makes it what it is, because you were right. There’s something fantastic about how everything led up to this. Aeons of planning on Dad’s part to get it lined up just right, to get us to where we are. To who we are. You…”_ he trailed off, shaking his head. _“Either that, or he just went on one hell of a bender when everything was new and has been playing it by ear ever since. I guess the **how** doesn’t really matter. But…”_ Gabriel’s eyes darted off to the side, then locked back onto the camera.

The sound of your name carried across the speakers, his voice tightening with an emotion that hung unfamiliar on his lips.

 _“Listen. I spent a lot of time running, doing everything to take away the pain of what happened with my family. To feel too much of the wrong things, or to not feel anything at all. Anything to hold me over until I could finally go back home.”_ He paused, breathing deeply.

 _“But you, sugar. You’re something else. Always have been, always will be. Trade secret? When humans get upstairs, they spend eternity reliving all their best memories. And I just wanted you to know… I just wanted you to know that, if Dad made anything like that for us… You’re gonna have a starring role in mine.”_ His sincere expression stared at you from behind the screen. He coughed, looking away and smacking his palms against his thighs as he rose from the bed.

 _“Alright. Well, that’s about enough of that. If it gets any deeper in here, I’ll have to roll up my pants legs. Now, stop sobbing into your breakfast. Go feed Homer. Go for a walk. Go kill something. But don’t you ever, ever stop fighting. You taught me that…. And as for me,”_ he continued. _“Well, I think it’s time I got this party started.”_

With a smirk and a wink, he clicked his fingers.

The screen blinked black, a small _Replay?_ icon appearing in the center.

Homer watched you, your blank expression locked on the display. Rising to his feet, he jumped into your lap and licked your face. You reached up, scratching a spot behind his ears.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay.”

Pulling the dog close, you cried until there was nothing left to cry. Then, drying your eyes, you found Homer’s leash, snapped it onto his collar, and the two of you stepped outside to greet the new day.

——————————-

The disk found a home in your bookshelf, slid between two of your favorite tomes. Homer became a fixture in your life, and you took him with you on long trips. At home, you both slept on the couch. You couldn’t stand your room after that last night; your bed too large and too empty. Familiar feelings now ruined the room with their stinging permanency.

You kept to yourself, working cases and caring for Homer. The Apocalypse, a thankfully anticlimactic event, came and went.

Gabriel was dead. The world moved on.

——————————-

The groaning of your house shook you from your reverie, and you returned your attention to Homer who, now sitting on your chest, perked his ears in the direction of the kitchen.  
The sound of thunder rolling across the sky died down to make audible a tiny _**click** _.__

__Your entire body tensed. From the kitchen radio, the song began again._ _

_She gave her heart…._

Setting Homer on the floor, you slowly crawled from the couch.

_To a falling star…_

Reaching beneath the sofa, you retrieved your shotgun. You double-checked the rock salt rounds in the chamber, lowered the nose to the ground and started towards the kitchen on the balls of your feet. Homer stayed at your heels.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

Rounding the bar, the glowing interface caught your eye.

If he’s not here, then where?

No cold spots, no moving objects, no apparitions. Just another radio. Playing the same song. Completely normal.

Yeah, right.

The thunder boomed again, followed by another bright flash of lightening. From the corner of your eye, you thought you saw something out the kitchen window. You turned sharply, scanning the yard in the residual flickers of light.

Nothing.

Homer, however, seemed to disagree.

_When she found it there_

_In the cold, blue glare_

The little dog, normally terrified of storms, bolted back into the living room. You heard him rattle at his doggy door and quickly followed. Returning to the room, you saw him nudge the block on the door up with his nose. He squeezed his head through the gap.

“Homer! Homer, no!” You shouted, dashing to the door too late. Homer’s body disappeared through the flap and into the night, yapping loudly as he went.

_The words distressed and unfamiliar,_

_Where the feelings seared._

“Shit!” You cursed.

_An emptiness had hung,_

_And in her chest, she clenched._

You flipped the deadbolt and reached for the door knob, pausing as the song increased in volume.

“What in the name of—?” You stopped, cut off by another lightening strike and accompanying power surge.

_**Click, click, click** _

In quick succession, every music-capable electronic device in your house powered up, blasting the song in time with the kitchen radio.

_Reality settled as the memories raced_

“Oh for, the love of—” the words hung in your throat as you caught a familiar outline in the static of your television screen. The faint visage repeated the same movements in a loop, but you saw it clearly behind the glass.

_While on the screen, he lived._

“Oh my god.”

_She teared, “Your selfishness has robbed you of the man you could have been;_

Homer’s barking, which had faded into the storm, grew near again. One hand on the door, the other on your gun, staring slack-jawed at your television while every speaker in the house reached maximum volume and shook the structure, you couldn’t fathom what might happen next.

_I wouldn’t change a thing about you,_

_I love you dearly…_

Homer yapped, thudding loudly against the outside of the door. Taking a deep breath, you spun around, twisting the knob and yanking it open.

_My friend._

You took a wide step back, throat constricting. The gun nearly fell from your grip, but you managed to ease it to the floor. Eyes wide, mind racing, you stared at the man across the frame.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

A very wet, very muddy Gabriel stood, holding Homer’s excited, shaking form in his arms.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

“Hi, honey. I’m home,” he quipped gently, gauging your reaction.

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to construct a thought. The music thrummed in your ears, and the room seemed to shrink around you.

Gabriel leaned down, allowing the soggy dog to run into the house. Straightening, he waved vaguely. The music quieted to a dull murmur.

_My love;_

“Sorry about the noise. Resurrection of a celestial being’s tricky business. All kinds of wavelengths get crossed,” he explained. Your lower lip trembled, attracting his attention. Tentatively taking a step forward, he stopped when you raised your hand.

_Been searching for my Afterman._

“You—” You began, unable to form a cohesive idea, let alone construct a sentence. You reached out and gently pressed a hand to his shoulder. It connected. You turned it over, examining the mud and debris that came away on your fingers. You touched him again, and he moved closer. Your fingers ghosted up his neck, resting against his face.

“You’re— Are you—” You broke off, swallowing. “Are you real?”

_If he’s not here, then where?_

“As real as they come, sweetheart,” he smiled. “Have to be, with all the digging. It was useless and did nothing to advance the plot. I would have never dreamed about that,” he paused. “Oh. And I think I killed your tree. Yeeahhh…. I’ll fix it in the morning.”

He covered the hand on his face with his own, pulling you in with the other. You took in the dirt beneath his nails, eyes widening.

“Oh god,” you breathed, “You had to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, “at least you didn’t burn me. Finding a new vessel is a real bitch. Plus, you seem to like this one,” he waggled his brows. You stared blankly in return. His lips turned down.

“Sugar,” he started, pressing his forehead against yours and bumping the side of your nose with his own.

The cool dampness of his clothing bled into yours as he pulled you closer. The smell of petrichor clung to his skin, and you inhaled deeply, seeking and finding his own unique scent. Your lips hovered a hair’s breadth from brushing his.

“Please be real? Please, God, you, anyone that can hear me, don’t let this be another dream?” You pled with him. His heart broke at your look.

_If he’s not here, then where?_

His eyes narrowed and he firmly set his jaw.

“I’m here. I’m real and I’m here, and I’m home. I promised you couldn’t get rid of me,” he assured you, eyes crinkling at the corners as he offered a sincere smile. Your arms swung around the back of his neck, pulling him into a desperate kiss.

His hands raced up your back, holding you tightly as he kicked the door shut behind him.

Seeking, wanting, needing, comforting, fixing, breaking, and fixing again, you collapsed to the floor in a wet heap of tangled limbs.

_My love;_

_Been searching for my Afterman._

__——————————-_ _

__Hours later, warm and clean in the long-forgotten comfort of your bed, Gabriel held you and you listened to the rain splatter against the roof. Homer’s head draped across Gabriel’s ankle and his paws twitched in his sleep._ _

__“If I fall asleep…” You began._ _

__“I’ll be here when you decide to wake up,” he finished against your hair._ _

__“If you’re not, and this was some kind of messed up dream or a joke, I’m gonna hunt down whoever’s responsible and feed them their own eyeballs,” you mumbled. He snickered._ _

__“You would… But, I’ll be here. We’ll do chocolate chip pancakes in the morning. Breakfast in bed. I might not let you out of this room for weeks,” he mused. You made a non-committal sound._ _

__“Bladders. Human bladders,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Just… I’d just like you to be here… So I know… I’m not crazy and…” your voice trailed into silence._ _

__“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,” he swore, feeling you drift asleep beside him. He meant that._ _

__He wasn’t sure where he’d been, or why he was back, but something or someone had given him another chance. A chance to do things right._ _

__And he’d be damned if he was going to blow it. He would be there in the morning._ _

He’d be there in the morning with the best damned chocolate chip pancakes you’d ever tasted. And he’d be there every feasible morning after that, until he no longer had a reason.

Because for the first time in his life, beginning with the night it ended at The Elysian Fields, Gabriel finally felt like he was exactly where he belonged.


End file.
